Vintage Dinosaur Art: The Ultimate Book of Dinosaurs – part 2

We are going to be talking about Dinocon, honest. But until then, here are some of the other illustrations from The Ultimate Book of Dinosaurs, first published in 2000 (this edition’s from 2002). In my last post, I looked at some (most, really) of Steve White’s contributions; this time, I’ll be featuring work from (deep breath) John Butler, Chris Christoforou, John Egan, Roger Goode, Philip Hood, Mark Iley, David McAllister, Martin McKenna, Michael Posen, and Tim White. Although because individual artists aren’t credited, it’s likely only going to be some of those people. It’s a shame, as I’d really like to know who illustrated this first piece…

…Just because it’s oh-so-very cute. These are the most adorable, roundest dinosaurs I’ve seen outside of Bandai gashapon shops. Just look at the pudgy legs on that Stegosaurus and the softened facial features of that Allosaurus. And they look like they’re saying hello to one another! Granted, it’s a rather strange style to be using in a book that otherwise features artwork aiming at realism, but perhaps because of that it’s one of the more endearing illustrations present.

In the early 2000s, while scaly dromaeosaurs still tended to dominate, the authors of even the most bargain basement kids’ dinosaur books had to contend with the reality of FEATHERED DINOSAURS. Sinornithosaurus, described in 1999, is an impressively up-to-date inclusion for a book like this. Of course, artists still weren’t sure what to do with them, and so we ended up with the minimally-feathered likes of the above; having said that, this is far, far from being the worst example of an illustration of a feathered dromaeosaur to emerge from the 2000s. If anything, the three-toed feet and short tail are more peculiar than the application of the feathers.

You’ll also note the inclusion of a hypothetical feathered T. rex chick, an idea that has only ever been met with a shrug of indifference from anyone who ever encountered it online. Even if it’s a rather strange illustration in places (three toes again!), at least it has the gangly proportions and more gracile skull that we know young tyrannosaurs had, rather than looking like a small, ‘cute’ version of the adult. Hey, this spread isn’t too bad at all!

Ah, that’s better. Although popular books in the 2000s acknowledged the existence of feathered coelurosaurs, they would still often feature stubbornly scaly Deinonychus and Velociraptor that could have emerged from the 1980s. The above is a particularly hideous example, sporting a head seemingly modeled on one of those crude, hollow dinosaur toys that you were ashamed to own even as a small child. And those gangly arms with tiny hands! And three-toed feet, again! On the other hand, it’s so comically pop-eyed and goofy-looking that it crosses a line and manages to be quite endearing. Maybe I should resurrect Cruel Marc from the old days and hold another Terrible ’90s (and 2000s) Dromaeosaur Face-Off.

It would appear that the same artist contributed the above Velociraptor. I really love the colour scheme, but I’m afraid that all praise must end there. It, too, sports a hideous head with huge, triangular, uniform teeth, although it does appear to have four toes on each foot this time (it’s a bit hard to tell as its feet are mostly in the fold). It would have been acceptable in the ’80s. The ’80s. Acceptable at that time.

Elsewhere, other illustrations are clearly better referenced, with the above Albertosaurus seemingly based on photos of a skeletal mount of the animal. Unfortunately, it has fallen foul of the great scourge of SHRINK WRAPPING. This does lead to the rather comical labeling of the sagittal crest as a “small, blunt horn”, when in fact it was an attachment point for muscles and wouldn’t have protruded like this. In fact, this poor fellow appears to lack all jaw muscles of any sort, which does again remind one of art from the ’80s. The truth is, of course, that jobbing illustrators who weren’t dinosaur specialists are likely to only have had artwork from that era available as reference material. (Even so, wouldn’t logic dictate that an animal like this would have jaw muscles? Or am I being mean?)

Stegosaurus is seldom shrink-wrapped, and indeed it looks quite healthy in the above piece. At first glance, it’s a fairly typical illustration of the animal from the time, with flaws that we could nitpick (too many hand claws, the plates are a bit small, etc.), but at least it has a nice upright stance and elevated tail. However, two peculiarities do bother me here…

1. Is that a spike on the underside of the tail?

2. The head. It’s rather uncanny.

It rather resembles an artiodactyl of some sort, but with sinister pointed teeth lining its jaws, and the characteristic ornithischian beak is completely absent (the Jurassic Park toy did that, too). It looks so…off in a manner that I can’t quite put my finger on. Your thoughts in the comments, please.

Another anatomical oddity appears on the Troodon page, or perhaps I should say “Tröodon”, for the authors of this book are very fond of the umlaut. Here, the issue of maniraptorans being illustrated with too few toes is reversed, for Tröödön is depicted with five toes on each foot, two of which are playing the ‘hallux’. I can only imagine that this comes from a mistaken interpretation of John Sibbick’s Stenonychosaurus from the Normanpedia, where it’s depicted with its second toes curling back on both feet for some reason (but Sibbick does give it the correct number of toes). This isn’t a straightforward copy of that illustration, which makes it an interesting example of Normanpedia tropes being reworked in later pieces by other artists. (Oh, and the arms are asymmetrical. Don’t worry, I noticed.) Speaking of which…

Here’s a creature that looks very much like the Normanpedia Allosaurus, except repositioned into a much more dynamic, Paulian pose, and serving as a Giganotosaurus! I’m going to ignore the latter fact and pretend that this is an installment in the ongoing adventures of the ’85 Sibbick Allosaurus. As I’ve mentioned before, I do enjoy it when artists obviously copy specific reconstructions by other artists, but then repurpose them; it’s just a shame that this fellow isn’t interacting with any other dinosaurs.

Oh, and if you’re wondering, “Gigantosaurus” isn’t merely a typo – it’s referred to as such on both pages of the spread dedicated to the animal. Oh dear.

That’s about it for this book, I think, but I did want to mention a superb factoid that appears on the Brachiosaurus spread:

LOOK, NO ARMS!

“Arm Lizard” might seem like a strange name to give to a creature with four legs. It was given this name because its long front legs grew from its shoulders, as if they were arms.”

As Jordan Peterson might say, “define ‘arm'”. In any case, thanks for reading, until next time and all that…